


The Upside Down

by soulfulsin



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: (This takes place before Friendship Hates Magic but after Nothing Can Stop Della Duck)While on the hunt for a rare artifact, Lena and Webby find more than they've bargained for when the boundaries between realms blur and the shadow realm becomes accessible to the astral plane.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 30





	1. The Upside

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things. I've wanted to write a story revolving around Lena being in the shadow realm and editorializing everything for *months* now. Ever since I saw Friendship Hates Magic. I originally wanted to do her recapping the episodes before FHM, but one, that seemed more suited for a DVD commentary type set-up and two, it's a rehash.
> 
> Two--I've wanted to write something that would bring my love back to DuckTales, as hiatuses tend to drive me toward other fandoms. I hope you guys enjoy this fic. My mom is enjoying it, but she doesn't count. XD 
> 
> Three: this takes place in the canon universe. For once, this isn't an AU.

The upside of this, if there _is_ an upside, is that she doesn’t have to worry about Magica breathing down her neck every five seconds. Then again, no one can see or hear her. Sometimes she thinks Duckworth can but he’s just being a jerk and denying it. It’s a lonely existence, being a shadow. 

She wonders if Webby knows how much she wishes she could break free and help her. She wonders if the boys know how many secrets Webby hides. And she wonders what it’d be like to feel part of a real family. Webby considers the boys her brothers...but not quite. She hasn’t forgotten what Scrooge said about her not being family aboard the Sunchaser, a tale Webby relayed only once but has stuck with Lena. Lena knows what it’s like to be rejected by people she considers family.

Though she is tethered to Webby via the friendship bracelet, she has an economy of movement...within a certain parameter. She can’t travel too far away from Webby or the invisible link connecting the two girls snaps and Lena flies back toward her. She found that out the hard way when she thought she could signal for help after Glomgold threw Webby into the sea. The tether encompasses the manor, which means if she wants, she can pop in on the boys, Della, Scrooge, or Mrs. Beakley.

Sometimes, though she knows it’s crazy, she thinks Webby’s grandmother knows what’s up. She hasn’t survived this long by being unobservant, after all. How she knows when Lena can neither communicate with the land of the living nor touch anything is beyond her. Yet sometimes, she’ll stop what she’s doing and look around as if she can feel Lena’s gaze upon her. It’s uncanny.

At present, Lena is floating and watching Della with the boys. She isn’t jealous. She doesn’t know what she is, to tell the truth. Not indifferent. This just isn’t her scene. 

She starts to drift away when Della says, “You know, I used to think this manor was haunted.”

Lena chokes. However, seeing as she has no corporeal form, it’s more a reflex than because she needs to breathe. Flummoxed, she stares at Della as if seeing her anew. 

“Duckworth’s here…” Dewey says uncertainly.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Della says and points right at Lena. “There are breezes that shouldn’t be there or moments when it’s cold for no reason.”

“It’s probably due to drafts,” Huey reasons and Lena rolls her eyes. Leave it to the logical triplet to explain this all away using scientific stuff. He’d probably have a conniption if she tried to explain magic to him, even though it too has its own rules and limits. 

“Maybe…” Della says, but she sounds far from convinced. 

Lena moves closer, walking though she doesn’t have to. She gazes into Della’s blue eyes and says, very softly, “Hi.”

“Maybe it _is_ just the drafts…” Della says and shakes her head. “Never mind. I’m being silly.”

Frustrated, Lena growls and kicks the table. As ever, her leg goes through it and disturbs nothing. Stupid real world. Stupid shadow realm. Stupid everything. She screams, knowing no one can hear her. Then, seeing as it makes no real difference, she screams so loudly that if she’d had a physical form, her throat would be raw from it. 

She hates this. She hated having Magica on her back too, but this being invisible and inaudible thing is almost worse. Almost. 

Della again stares where Lena is. 

“Eh, it’s probably a leftover from all the time I spent by myself on the moon,” Della decides with a shrug and changes the subject. Lena can’t get over that the triplets’ mother was staring in her direction, almost as if she knew she was there. She races back to Webby to tell her and then remembers. She can’t talk to Webby. She can’t talk to anyone.

She curses a blue streak. Who’s going to hear her and wash her beak out? No one.

She finds Webby reading a book on her bed. To Lena’s consternation, it’s a book about magic. Or, rather, an attempt by B.A. Beagle. Lena sneers. There’s about as much magic in there as there is in a normal fantasy novel. There’s nothing within that will help Webby, she can see from here.

She’s touched that Webby wants to bring her back. She doesn’t think she deserves it. And hey, she’ll be fine in the shadow realm. Forever. It isn’t that lonely, right? She isn’t dying for contact. She’s already dead. Lena laughs bitterly.

“Lena?” Webby asks, looking up from her book and staring around her. She twists the friendship bracelet around her wrist.

“I’m here if you need me, pink,” Lena says. Of course, Webby can’t hear her. She doesn’t know why she keeps forgetting that.

Webby shakes her head and resumes reading. Since Lena is not in the habit of watching people read, something she finds terribly boring, she returns to the boys and their mother. Della is telling them about a battle she had with a moon mite. Lena doesn’t know what that is or why she should care. 

Man, she’s bored. She’d kill for some entertainment. She steps up to the TV and glowers at it. Why is it that all those paranormal shows have poltergeists turning on the lights and screwing with the electronics and everything when she can’t do a thing? How is that fair? She ought to be a poltergeist too. She could haunt Aunt Magica if she knew where she was. If, you know, the idea didn’t scare her half to death.

Ha. There’s that phrase again. Lena rolls her eyes at herself.

“Come _on_ ,” Lena grouses. “Someone do something interesting. Blow things up. Have a villain break into the manor. Go on an adventure. I’m so bored I might actually die again of it.”

She remembers this old Friday night show where a kid eats a burger, dies, and returns to Earth as someone’s guardian angel. Why couldn’t she get that gig? But...she’d still be stuck in the same boat. She wouldn’t be able to help Webby when she really needed it.

Lena sighs and flings herself at a stuffed armchair. What she wouldn’t do for a cell phone right about now.

Scrooge darts into the room and interrupts Della in the middle of a dramatic moment. Lena has by now tuned her out.

“I found some hidden treasure in South Africa! Here’s a map, let’s go!”

The boys spring to their feet and chatter excitedly. Lena hates that the only thrills she gets are vicarious, but she’ll take what she can get. Scrooge mentions a crown and Lena shudders. Something about that is entirely too familiar for her tastes.

“Go get Webbigail!” Scrooge orders and Dewey rushes off like a bullet. Lena rolls her eyes. She isn’t surprised. For a while, Webby and Dewey were glued at the hip. Then again, Lena understands loneliness. And she understands that she’s left a hole in Webby’s heart, for which she is profoundly sorry. Sometimes she wonders if it’d been better had Webby never met her…

Webby would tell her that she’s being ridiculous. But, really, Lena can’t think of a single way that Webby benefited from having her as a friend as opposed to the boys. And hey, they’re still alive. 

_“Lena could never be your friend because she was_ _ **never real**_.”

Yeah, thanks, Aunt Magica. I’ve got a finger just for you too.

Lena returns to Webby’s side before Dewey reaches her. Movement is instantaneous as a shadow, for all the good it does her.

“It’s fiction,” Lena grouses at Webby. “Put the stupid book down, pink. You’ve done enough magic for a lifetime. And really...I’m not worth risking yourself over.”

She looks askance. “I’m not.”

“Hey,” Dewey says, arriving a few minutes later. “We’re going on an adventure. Do you wanna come?”

“Do I!” Webby exclaimed, springing to her feet and putting the book down. She glances in Lena’s direction and, again, Lena has that uncanny sense that someone knows where she is. Lena waves and Webby turns away. Maybe Lena is so desperate for a connection that she’s imagining them where they don’t exist. That’s probably it.

“Great,” Lena mutters. “I’m dead and now I’m going crazy.”

She wonders whether this is how Della felt, minus the dead part. She feels like, in the right circumstances, she and Della might get along. Della’s exuberance reminds her of Webby and Lena smiles despite herself. She loves that girl. She’d have to, to attach herself to her.

“Pity party of one, coming up,” Lena mutters. 

She doesn’t know why she speaks aloud when she could think it, but she’s gotten into the habit of talking to herself. She doesn’t know why Webby hasn’t thought of the obvious solution, an Oujia board. But then again, Lena isn’t sure she could use that to communicate either. Or maybe the powers that be don’t want her meddling with the dark arts. Like that Dark Arts Beagle loser.

They might be losers, but, hey, the joke’s on her. They’re still alive.

“Bye, Lena!” Webby calls after Dewey’s out of earshot.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Lena replies, rolling her eyes. “Or is it the other way around?”

Webby bounces along and Lena, considerably less perky, drifts in her wake. She doesn’t know where Webby gets her energy from. Lena needs at least a coffee to get through the morning and an energy drink is better. Then again, she has no energy as a shadow creature, so the point is moot. And there’s no such thing as a shadow energy drink. 

She laughs, thinking of a Heartless drinking Red Bull. The idea is hilarious, perhaps because she’s been isolated for so long that _anything_ is hilarious in the right light. She laughs hysterically, trailing Webby, and by the time they reach the Sunchaser and everything is in order for take-off, she realizes she’s not laughing anymore.

She’s crying. If she had a body, she’d probably be crying so hard she couldn’t breathe. That isn’t a problem now.

The plane flies into the air and Lena glances back down at Duckburg as it grows small beneath them. Della is piloting, with Launchpad relegated to co-pilot (depending on how long _that_ lasts) and the boys and Webby are chatting excitedly about their upcoming adventure. Okay, three out of the four are. Louie seems to be cataloging the ways he could get hurt. And being upset that he’s lost service.

Lena doesn’t know where to pretend to sit. She settles on standing behind Webby and putting her translucent hands on her shoulders. Wouldn’t it be fun if this crown had magical powers and could restore her? Lena barks a laugh but is too depressed to follow through. She hates this half-life.

She leans against Webby, who has no idea she’s there. If Lena didn’t know better, she’d think she wasn’t there either. She doesn’t feel present. She doesn’t feel like anything physically. 

She decides to make herself comfortable, which is an oxymoron considering that there’s no difference between comfort and discomfort in the shadow realm. If she isn’t careful, her emotions could get away from her too. If she spends too much time in here, maybe she’ll fade away on her own. But…

Lena’s gaze fastens onto Webby’s friendship bracelet. It glows faintly, imperceptible to Webby and the boys. But it makes Lena feel marginally better. She still thinks Webby’s wasting her time trying to bring her back. And she can’t pretend she understands it. 

But she loves her anyway, as the first person in her life to show her true love and affection with no strings attached. Maybe that’s the way of things. Some things you can have, but not keep.

Then something Scrooge is saying to Della registers (while Lena is mentally reciting “One More Light”).

“Aye, the wrong explorer might find himself or herself trapped in a nightmare dimension...”

“Then why do you want it? Jeez, you make no sense, old man,” Lena complains.

“And that’s not going to happen to us because…?” Louie asks.

“I know the secret,” Scrooge says.

“Bet you don’t,” Lena mutters.

“Trust me, laddies. It’ll be fine.”

Because that’s what you want to hear on a high-stakes adventure. An old Scottish man who is older than he has any right to be telling everyone else they’ll be fine with no evidence either way. Yeah, great. Louie looks about as convinced as Lena feels.

“Hmm…” is all Della says. She’s too busy piloting to pay her uncle much mind.

To Lena, this is not a ‘hmm’ moment. This is more of an ‘abandon ship’ moment, a sentiment she thinks Louie agrees with.

“Besides, there’s rumored to be other magic attached. It _is_ the Crown of the Lich King.”

Lena freezes. She could have sworn that was a WoW thing. Not that she’s a gamer or anything.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Scrooge remarks happily and Lena groans.

Those aren’t comforting words. Those are the words of a madman in a big blue box.


	2. Parting the Veil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm amazed at the response this has gotten so far...when the first chapter was posted in the DuckTales one-shots already. So have a new chapter. :P 
> 
> Thanks, everyone. :)

Lena spaces out as the group wends its way through the caverns. She doesn’t like doing that normally--it makes her feel like even less of a person than she is. Not that she’s a person; she constantly faces her lack of existence and spacing out seems to make her vanish, even from the shadow realm, for a while. 4However, she’s bored, she has nothing to entertain herself with, and anyway, no one notices her disappearance. It’s not like there’s anyone to do so.

After what feels like hours, they decide to set up camp within the cavern. Scrooge says that they’ll continue in the morning. Everyone is tired from the flight there and although Della, Webby, and Dewey are raring to go, Louie, Scrooge, and Launchpad look ready to drop. Huey is already cataloging their inventory and deciding what to cook for dinner. 

Self-conscious, Webby spins the friendship bracelet about her wrist. Lena watches her and wishes, not for the first time, that Webby could sense her. Lena remains weak from Magica’s attack and can’t manifest beyond the shadow realm, not even a shadow on the wall.

Dewey sits beside Webby and Lena feels a flash of irritation or perhaps it’s jealousy. Dewey and Webby seemed effortless together and, unlike Lena, he can talk to Webby. Well, technically, Lena can speak to her too...it’s just a one-sided conversation. Not much fun in that.

For a minute, Dewey watches her twist the bracelet around and then he puts his hand on her wrist to stop her. Lena freezes. Almost no one ever touches the bracelet besides Webby. She doesn’t know how she feels about this intrusion. The bracelet is not _his_. Her eyes narrow. The familiarity he brooks with Webby rankles Lena.

“Do you think she’s still out there?” Dewey asks quietly while Della and Huey discuss dinner options and Louie tries, to no avail, to get service in the cavern. She isn’t surprised that Donald spends so much on their phone plans. Louie must use a ton of data when he’s not in a wi-fi area. 

Webby doesn’t pull her wrist away and Lena glowers. What is Dewey playing at?

For a minute, it doesn’t seem like Webby will reply. Lena imagines she can feel the weight on Webby’s chest, the burden of this quest she’s assigned herself. Lena is touched, even if she thinks this is a waste of time. If it hadn’t been for the friendship bracelet, Aunt Magica would have destroyed her. And really, wouldn’t Lena have deserved it? She had betrayed her creator in pursuit of friendship and love and affection. She hadn’t been created to seek relationships, but to procure Scrooge’s number one dime. Lena was supposed to be a tool and she’d failed at it. 

Unbidden, tears prick her eyes and she swipes them away. Her self-esteem hit rock bottom after Aunt Magica killed her and it hasn’t picked up much in the interim. When you have your thoughts for company and no one to controvert them, they become cyclical and damaging. Lena sighs. She knows Webby wouldn’t agree with Lena putting herself down and for that alone, Lena ought to stop. What does it matter? 

Webby will never hear her. 

Despair swamps her again. She stares at the friendship bracelet and has a wild, self-destructive desire for Webby to fling it away and abandon it and her. Webby would never do that and Lena doesn’t really want her to. She’s just convinced herself that it’s the better option because she wants to hurt herself. Lena sighs, hugging herself.

“I do,” Webby says at last. “She’s waiting for me to rescue her.”

“Pink, you’re wasting your time. There’s no way you can get here...and I don’t want you to.”

But that’s a lie. She misses Webby so much. She’s right here and yet she’s worlds away. A lump forms in Lena’s throat and she hates herself that much more for wanting to cry _again_. She’s not like this normally. Something about the shadow realm and being trapped with her feelings for company has increased her volatility. 

And normally, she can successfully bury her emotions beneath sarcasm and snide remarks. Then again, who is going to hear her here? There’s no point in putting up a facade. Her shoulders sink, but she still glares at Dewey’s hand on Webby’s wrist. This doesn’t feel like as big an intrusion as it would were a perfect stranger to touch her wrist; Lena at least knows Dewey and knows how much he means to Webby. It’s just that, well...Lena’s spirit _resides_ in that bracelet. It’s like he’s touching her soul. It’s a little skeevy.

“You think the crown can help?” Dewey asks, sitting back. Lena sighs, relieved. 

“Something has to,” Webby replies, optimism rearing its head again. “I won’t be deterred. She needs me.”

Lena’s beak quirks toward a half-smile. “I love you too, pink.”

It occurs to her that she can only say this when she knows she won’t be overheard. It’s depressing, but Webby’s enthusiasm is hard to ignore. Her mood lifts despite herself.

“But you don’t know…” Dewey falters, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“You didn’t know that your mom was out there, but you didn’t stop believing, did you?” Webby reprimands softy. “You never gave up and I won’t either.”

Dewey opens his beak, perhaps to tell her that Della hadn’t perished right in front of him the way Lena had before Webby, but her disappearance and Scrooge’s description of it sounded lethal enough. He glances over at his mother, who has decided to cook. Lena snorts. Mrs. Beakley would have a conniption if she saw the way the fire is smoking. Huey is hurriedly trying to repair the damage, but Lena fears it’s a lost cause.

Webby shifts, looking in Lena’s direction. Lena’s heart, or what passes for it in the shadow realm, seizes for a second. 

“Pink?” 

“I thought I heard someone snort…” Webby says, confused. Lena’s stunned. She leans forward, putting her hands on Webby’s shoulders. It can’t have been Webby’s imagination.

“Okay…” Dewey says, looking around too. “But no one else is paying attention to us.”

Webby twists her bracelet around her wrist again, an unconscious, nervous gesture. Lena ought to fall through Webby, but she’s mastered the skill of not doing so. It’s too ghost-like to fall through people and things and to be honest, it creeps Lena out. It’s like when people walk through her.

“You think it could be her?” Dewey asks, dropping his voice as if they’re speaking of a specter. Lena supposes, in a way, they are.

“We don’t know what the crown does. Maybe it _can_ restore the dead to life.”

How can she be dead if she was never really alive? Aunt Magica’s words reverberate in her mind, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. Lena sighs.

Lena has a sudden, unwanted thought that perhaps the crown can only bring someone to half-life, like a zombie. She’d rather be stuck in the shadow realm than shambling around with her brains scrambled.

The moment passes and, after Huey creates another fire and replaces the meal, they eat. It might be Lena’s imagination, but Webby keeps glancing in her direction as if she’s aware of her presence. One time, they make eye contact, or what would pass for it otherwise. 

“Webby?” Lena whispers.

All too soon, they decide to go to sleep, with Webby sandwiched between Dewey and Louie. Louie has abandoned his phone, giving it up as a lost cause. Huey has bagged up what they didn’t eat, in preparation for tomorrow, and Lena rolls her eyes. He’s such a nerd. And he’s not _her_ nerd the way Webby is.

Lena sighs. She doesn’t always know what to do with herself when Webby sleeps. Lena has no need for sleep, not in the shadow realm. She’s tired, but she can’t do anything about it. She can blank out, which isn’t helpful. It never feels particularly restful and it only compounds her feelings of inadequacy. 

Resigning herself to a long, boring night, she sits near Webby’s head and passes her fingers over her hair. As she does so, she accidentally lets her fingers slip through Webby’s forehead. Annoyed at herself, she starts to pull away when images flood her mind. Lena blinks. That’s never happened before. 

There _is_ magic in these caverns; she’s sensed it as soon as she entered. However, she can’t completely feel it, walled off as she is. Curious, she places her hand on Webby’s forehead and more images follow. Webby is talking to a unicorn (because of course, she is) and explaining her training routine. She’s also telling the unicorn about her attempts to revive Lena.

“Seriously, pink? You have to tell your _dreams_ about me too?” Lena scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, resting?”

“Lena?” Webby murmurs in her sleep and Lena stares. She has an idea. It’s insane and it probably won’t work. She’s never tried it before; she thinks the astral plane may not be accessible from the shadow realm. But the clear delineation between the realms is blurring. She might be able to cross between realms. Sort of. She’s not going to be able to make it to the land of the living--she’d need a body for that. But maybe…

Feeling immensely stupid, especially if this doesn’t work and she passes through Webby instead, Lena prepares herself and plunges her whole hand up to the wrist into Webby’s head. This is, by far, the strangest idea she’s ever had. 

The images stop and for a second Lena sighs, almost relieved that this won’t work. It was too crazy. She had to have been insane to consider it.

Temporary insanity, that’s it.

Then the world shifts underneath her, the cave walls vanish, and she slams face down onto a training mat. The breath knocked out of her, Lena gasps and holds her stomach. That shouldn’t have hurt. She shouldn’t be here. What is going on?

“Lena?” Webby says and this time, there’s no ambiguity. Her best friend stares right at her. 

“Give me a second, pink. I feel like someone punched me in the stomach.” She groans and rolls over onto her back. She did a belly-flop by accident.

“How are you here? Am I dreaming you?” Webby asks, but she sounds uncertain. Possibly Webby’s dreams haven’t involved Lena or, if they have, they’ve involved her last few moments on replay. Lena shudders and the pain recedes. 

The thought makes her paranoid and she glances around as if Aunt Magica might be lurking somewhere in the training room. But, no, it’s just the two of them. 

“You’re not dreaming me,” Lena replies; her attention is drawn to the walls, which thrum with magical energy. It’s almost as if the room is breathing. Or has a heartbeat. 

She doesn’t have any time to contemplate that further. Webby tackle-hugs her into a mat. At least this time, Lena lands on her back.

Ignoring her best friend’s excited babbling, Lena gazes around her. Something is wrong. She can’t put her finger on it; beyond the realms bleed-through, she senses a malevolent presence. Webby hasn’t noticed. Then again, Webby isn’t made of magic the way Lena is.

Lena straightens up and clamps a hand over her best friend’s beak. The walls are breathing and the malicious force and its unseen gaze burn a hole between her shoulder blades. 

“You need to wake up,” Lena says seriously.

Webby frees herself. “But why? I want to be with you.”

The simple words tug at Lena’s heart. She doesn’t want her to wake either, truth be told. But something is here, lurking in the shadows, and it’s watching them intently. And if Lena is a novice compared to Magica regarding magic, then Webby is only dipping her toes in the water. She can’t handle a confrontation at this point.

“You need to wake up,” she repeats.

“You don’t want to talk to me? If it’s really you?” Webby pleads and Lena’s heart wrenches again.

“Yes, I want to talk to you. And yes, it’s really me. But can’t you feel something watching us?” she demands.

“No?”

Lena curses. She stands protectively in front of Webby, though she isn’t sure which position to take or where the creature will appear. Her heart or its facsimile pounds.

An orange blur slams into the two girls and, as it does, Lena is jolted into Webby and then through her. Again. Man, that’s annoying. It’s enough to wake her and she gasps, looking around. Her head has weight and her hair swings when she moves it back and forth. 

“Webby, you okay?” Dewey asks sleepily. He hasn’t opened his eyes.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Lena lies and then claps her hands over her beak. Her solid beak. She looks down at her hands and the friendship bracelet on her wrist. Oh, no, no, no. This isn’t possible. Lena feels sick to her stomach. 

She glances around her again and sees Webby in her shadow. She can feel her heart racing faster and wills herself back to sleep. Unfortunately, she is wide awake and horrified. 

The malevolent force, whatever it is, has switched their places. And Lena, stuck in Webby’s body, has no idea how to change them back. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dewey falls back asleep and leaves Lena panicking. While it’s great to have a body again, this isn’t what she wanted. She glances behind her, and Webby looks as frantic as Lena feels. She’s waving her arms and mouthing. Lena notices that she has a bigger imprint on the shadow realm than she did, yet it doesn’t bother her. Webby had faith Lena was there, which was enough. Lena’s residual magic must be why she can see Webby in her shadow. 

That means no one else will be able to see her. Lena glances around and settles her gaze upon Scrooge. The old miser has curled up away from the others; he dropped to sleep before anyone else did. Della has first-watch and sits there with her mechanical leg pulled up to her chest. She appears deep in thought. Lena considers talking to her, but what would she say? She doesn’t know if Della even believes in magic.

Wait, what is she talking about? Della must believe in magic. She couldn’t have traveled for all those years with Scrooge McDuck without dabbing in the mystical. Nonetheless, Lena falters, uncertain how to phrase this or where to start. 

Awake, she can sense the malevolent force waiting as if holding its breath. She doesn’t know how the others can sleep through it. Lena shudders and rubs her arms. Webby’s arms. They’re not hers. 

Oh, man, she feels awful. She glances behind her, and Webby looks at her sympathetically. She finds she doesn’t mind Webby as her shadow compared to Aunt Magica, though every time she looks at her, she feels worse and worse. This shouldn’t have happened. She shouldn’t be capable of piercing the Veil between realms.

Della’s staring at her. Lena flinches because Della’s gaze is penetrating and uncomfortably keen.

Maybe if she lies down and pretends to sleep, Della won’t ask what’s wrong. Lena curls up in her sleeping bag, clenches her eyes shut, and swallows hard. She has never felt less like sleep in her life. The constant connection to the magical world that Lena used to have when Magica was riding her is gone, and she feels like someone’s cut one of her limbs off. Then again, in the shadow realm, almost all of her senses are severed. So this shouldn’t come as a surprise.

The gambit works, perhaps because Webby isn’t one of Della’s children. Usually, that would annoy her. Now it comes as a relief. Lena has more time to figure out what’s going on and how to ask for help.

Aunt Magica had possessed her body and done things Lena would never have to achieve her goal. Lena never dreamed she’d be on the other side of that. Dream. That’s it. If she can fall asleep again, surely they can switch back. While she isn’t exactly happy in the shadow realm, she wouldn’t wish it on Webby. 

Except she can’t fall asleep. No matter what she tries, she’s wide awake and staring up at the cavern’s ceiling. She wants to curse, except Webby wouldn’t, and it’d draw attention to herself. 

It’s not like she’s wired and bursting with energy, which she senses Webby is like almost all of the time. A smile curves her beak, thinking of how excited Webby was during their first sleepover. The smile vanishes, thinking of that stupid money shark named Tiffany. She rolls her eyes, deciding to focus on being with Webby. She rolls over and faces the cave wall so that she can keep an eye on Webby. 

She hasn’t reckoned on how frustrating it is when she can’t talk to Webby. Webby looks miserable, huddled now, and Lena’s heart clenches. She doesn’t dare speak aloud and wake the others---or does she? But everyone looks exhausted…

Stupid body. Go. To. Sleep. She knows she could reverse this if she could fall asleep. 

Maybe she has to count sheep. Or relax her body. She’s tense, or is Webby tense? No, it’s Webby’s body, but Lena’s inhabiting. Oh, this is ridiculous. Lena jumps to her feet and decides to throw caution to the wind. She doesn’t want Webby trapped in the shadow realm any longer than she has to be, and maybe Della can do this without rousing the others. Webby idolizes Della, after all. Then again, Webby idolizes a lot of people who, in Lena’s opinion, frankly don’t deserve it. Scrooge McDuck comes to mind.

“Della?” Lena murmurs. At least Della is sitting apart from the others, far enough that if Lena keeps her voice down, they should be okay.

“Can’t sleep?” Della says sympathetically. “Dewey mentioned you have nightmares.”

Lena refrains from rolling her eyes. She had the feeling that Webby had told Dewey that in confidence and that Dewey’s eagerness to please Della had led him to overshare. Then again, Webby is desperate to please too; maybe it’s part of what makes them work together so well. Lena craves approval and acceptance also, but she isn’t as obvious about it. 

“See, the thing about that…” Lena stops. This is not going to work. She clenches her fists, inhales shakily, and gathers her thoughts. She catches herself, twisting the friendship bracelet around her wrist the way Webby does, which won’t help to convince Della.

She curses inwardly. She has no idea how to start.

Della, thankfully, is patient and waits expectantly. She’s spent over a decade waiting to be a mother; she’s trying her hardest now. Unbidden, a lump forms in Lena’s throat. Webby’s throat. She clenches her fists tightly, more to relieve stress than because she intends to strike anyone.

“Do you know what the Crown of the Lich King does?” Lena finds herself asking.

“It’s supposed to pierce the Veil between the living and the dead,” Della says after a moment of thought. “It allows the wearer to see and talk to the dead. At least, that’s what Uncle Scrooge said. I thought you’d have known already? He went on about it on the plane.”

That must’ve been a lecture Lena tuned out. The old man can ramble a lot. 

“I think the crown’s working without anyone wearing it.”

“What do you mean?” Della asks, frowning. “How can you tell? Did you see Lena?”

Somehow, she isn’t surprised Della knows about her. Someone must’ve told her. And the Shadow War had been big news before Della returned to Earth. It couldn’t have escaped her notice.

Lena catches herself before she laughs humorlessly. “I _am_ Lena.”

“What?” Della looks baffled and shakes her head as if uncertain she heard what she thought she did. “No, no, no, that’s impossible.”

She wants to prove to Della that she’s Lena, not Webby, except Della is _not_ the right person for that job. Della doesn’t know Webby all that well. She barely knows her children. Irritated with herself for not having thought of it sooner, she walks over to Dewey and nudges him. Dewey rolls over, and Lena grits her teeth. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I can’t prove I’m Lena to you--you’ve never met her. Me. Jeez, this is confusing. But Dewey knows Webby. He’ll know I’m not her if he just wakes up.”

“Honey…” Della starts and then stops. She doesn’t have anything to follow it up with. Lena resists the temptation to kick Dewey awake. That won’t earn her any brownie points, she doesn’t want to hurt him, and she knows Webby would be upset if she did it. Not that she can confirm that with her, but she doesn’t have to. She knows how much Dewey means to her.

“Wake _up_ ,” Lena hisses. Black flits before her vision, and she realizes what Webby’s about to do five seconds before she does it. By then, however, it’s too late to warn her. She must’ve figured out what Lena had done to enter her dream earlier. Lena’s impressed, but then again, she has always known Webby’s a smart kid. Except sometimes when she’s with Dewey, and the two share a brain cell. Then she’s not as impressed. 

Except this time, it doesn’t work. Webby sails backward and lands against the wall. Lena winces in sympathy. That looked painful.

Webby mouths something that Mrs. Beakley would not approve of, and Lena laughs. She agrees. This is a pretty screwed up situation. 

Dewey doesn’t wake. Lena has no idea how deep a sleeper he is or how to wake him. And since Della hasn’t been there for most of his life, she can’t exactly ask her what it might take to wake her. Donald would know, but Lena can’t understand him. 

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Della advises, and Lena rejoins her. She intends to sit cross-legged and forgets that her legs are shorter. She crashes to the ground instead of sitting neatly. It gets the job done, but it skins her knees. She grimaces.

“You know about the Shadow War and my being Magica de Spell’s shadow, right?” Lena asks. If she has to go back that far, it’s going to take a while to explain it all. 

Della nods.

“I’ve been in the shadow realm and tethered to Webby’s friendship bracelet,” she says, unconsciously rubbing the bracelet. Webby rejoins her and sits cross-legged beside her. Della can’t see her. Or, rather, she only sees Webby’s shadow, not Webby as a shadow. Come to think of it, there’s no way to differentiate between her being in Webby’s shadow and Webby’s actual shadow. 

“After we got here, the lines between the shadow realm and the astral plane kinda...broke…” Lena says. This isn’t the best way to describe it, but she tuned out almost all of Aunt Magica’s lectures about magic. She almost wishes she’d paid attention now.

“I popped into Webby’s dream and…” 

Lena continues, and when she’s finished, she glances at Della. 

“That’s not the strangest thing that’s happened to this family…” Della muses.

Lena opens her beak to ask what is and then decides she doesn’t want to know. That it might be safer remaining ignorant. Della’s gazing at her intently as if she can see Lena within Webby. Lena doubts she can. It’s a jarring experience, being trapped in someone else’s body. Nothing is the right size or shape, and Webby’s senses are dulled to the magical world. 

“We’ll have to find the crown to reverse this,” Della comments.

“Probably.”

To her surprise, Della cups her face in her hands. Webby’s probably used to the casual affection, but Lena, who on top of spending months in the shadow realm, is touch starved, bites back a cry. She’s used to touching things but not really, not being able to interact with the real world. She didn’t realize how much she missed being acknowledged and feeling like she exists.

“I might not know much about magic, Lena--” (So she _does_ believe her--that’s a relief)---” but I’ll help in any way I can.”

Della smooths back her hair. “You’re a good kid.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“If you’re good enough for my boys’ best friend, then you’re good enough for me.”

“Honorary sister,” Lena blurts, knowing she’s ruining the moment, but she can’t stop herself. “She’s the fourth triplet.”

Being alone with her thoughts for nearly three months is not conducive to filters. She’s used to saying what she wants, when she wants, without being overheard. She’s going to need to learn how to keep her mouth shut again. 

“Right…” Della says, not sure how to parse this information. “Well, it’s almost morning--”

Lena glances around. “How can you tell?”

Della pulls out her smartphone, and Lena feels stupid. Uh, duh. Being without a phone for two and a half months has made her forget the ubiquitousness of them.

“We only have a couple of hours until dawn. Why don’t we talk?”

About how to fix this? No...that’s not the look Della’s giving her. It’s almost as if she expects Lena to unburden herself to a stranger. But, no. She’s not Webby. And for all that Lena knows Della, Della doesn’t know her. She bristles, moving away from the older female duck.

“I’m gonna go look for the crown,” Lena declares.

“No, that’s not a good idea,” Della warns.

Lena smirks. “Don’t you know? I’m great at bad ideas.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :P Two updates in one week to compensate for not having updated on a regular basis. 
> 
> I need to finish the fifth chapter, so don't expect an update on Saturday. XD

She sets off down deeper into the caverns. Her footsteps echo and she cringes; she’s used to walking around with shoes, so bare feet on the cold stone is like nails on a chalkboard. Plus, the height is wrong and she’s still not used to this. When she stops for a few seconds, Webby smiles at her. But she can’t risk pausing for too long--she can hear Della rushing after her. You’d think that the leg would slow her down on Earth, but nope.

“Lena!” Della snaps and her hair whips around the corner a second before she does. 

“You might wanna try a little harder to catch me,” Lena tosses over her shoulder. She isn’t looking where she’s going, focusing instead on Della advancing, and it’s only Della grabbing her by the wrist that prevents her from plunging off a cliff. Lena’s heart is in her throat. She came so close to killing Webby that fear paralyzes her for a minute.

“You can’t go running off,” Della admonishes. “Are you all right?”

“Just had a near-death experience, but, yeah, I’m good,” Lena replies, shaken. It’d be one thing if she was in her own body. Okay, she wouldn’t like to plunge to her death in her own body either, but better her than Webby.

And...why is Webby giving her that look? She’s staring at her with disapproval in the light spots where her eyes would be. It’s as if she has an inkling of Lena’s thoughts. It’s horrifying too, in its own way. She doesn’t want to introduce Webby to the dark abyss that is her subconscious, not to mention her self-loathing.

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Lena mutters.

Della follows Lena’s gaze. 

“Let me get this straight--you and Webby switched places, right?” 

Lena nods, stomach-churning. Webby’s shadow is on the wall and Lena can still feel the pebbles underneath her feet and the yawning hole that awaited her. She’s not okay. She’s shaken down to her bones or whatever shadows have for that.

“So...Webby’s in your shadow.”

“Well, more like Webby is her own shadow, which is kinda weird…” Lena says. Della pulls Lena away from the precipice, further, and holds her at arm’s length. 

“You can’t expect me to trust you if you’re lying to me.”

“How am I lying to you?” Lena huffs. Leave it to adults to make stupid rules and then change them mid-way. She’s so sick of adults and their double-standards. 

“You’re trembling.”

“Duh, I almost killed Webby. How do you think I feel?” Lena snaps, waspish.

Della stares at her oddly. “What about you?”

“What about me what?” Lena huffs.

“Don’t you care what happens to you?” 

“Don’t change the subject!”

What irritates her, even more, is that she knows what Della’s doing. Della has cottoned onto the flaw in her reasoning. 

“You’re important too, you know.”

“Would you listen to me instead of giving me a lecture?!” Lena snarls, at her wit’s end. “Webby is what’s important. Webby has always been what’s important! Now, are you going to help me find this stupid Lich King’s crown or am I going to have to jump off every cliff and save myself before I find it?”

“Lena,” Della says and it’s the delicate way she’s talking, as if she’s trying to help her, that gets on Lena’s every last nerve. It’s not just that this woman is interfering, though that’s part of it. It’s that she’s struck close to Lena’s insecurities and vulnerabilities at a time when it’s the exact opposite of what she needs. She can almost hear Aunt Magica exhorting her to throw Della off the cliff instead...and her blood runs cold. Magica would think nothing of casual murder.

It’s that which prevents her from biting Della’s head off. She’s scared of the darkness inside of her, the seed that Aunt Magica planted but Lena allowed to grow. She isn’t a good guy. She isn’t even a decent person. And heaven help her, but she’s petrified.

“Can we just get what we came here for so all of this can stop?” Lena says. She intends to sound tough and untouchable, but fear leaks through. She tells herself that she sacrificed herself for Webby, which makes her, if not a good guy, at least not actively evil. That puts her out of her aunt’s camp. Above all, she is _not_ Magica de Spell’s tool anymore. Or her lackey. 

She’s been trapped in the shadow realm too long with her thoughts.

“We need to talk to the others and come up with a plan,” Della replies and shakes her head. “You’re going to hurt someone like that.”

Lena falters and reluctantly agrees. She’s glad that Webby shares her shadow and not her thoughts. She’d be appalled.

Della holds Lena by the shoulders and forces her to face her.

“You don’t deserve what happened to you, okay?” 

Lena knocks her away. “Whatever. Let’s wait for the others to wake up.”

Della’s frown deepens. This answer isn’t sufficient and she wants to pry deeper--Lena can see it in her eyes. She won’t look away, because that’s taking the coward’s way out. Unfortunately, she knows that in a battle of wills, Della won’t back down either. She doesn’t know what to do. Who will blink first?

“This is only temporary,” Della says softly and Lena huffs. She’s determined to have it out, is she? Lena walks around her and back toward the camp. She can see the light in the distance and a chill runs down her back. The dark magic she sensed earlier grows closer. It wants something from her and she doesn’t think she can deliver.

It doesn’t feel like Magica’s brand of darkness. It’s older, more patient, and infinitely more powerful. It can stand to wait until the fates align in its favor. Lena shudders. She wishes Webby had never embarked on this voyage. Moreover, she wishes Scrooge had never even heard of this stupid crown. If he hadn’t, Webby would be safe at home and none of this would be happening. Lena would take being trapped in the shadow realm over this.

Della catches up to her and Lena glowers.

“I don’t want your help,” she snaps. “I don’t need it.”

“Then how do you plan on explaining this to the others?” 

“I’ll think of something.”

She twists the friendship bracelet around her wrist, a nervous habit she must’ve picked up from Webby. Webby watches her closely and Lena glares at her. She relents a few seconds later. She’s not angry at Webby. She could never truly be. Her shoulders sink.

“You don’t have to go it alone,” Della says.

Lena shrugs. Rather than deal with this, she snaps, “Whatever. Let’s just get back to the camp.”

They lapse into silence, which is fine by her. Her mood sinks lower and lower. Webby would still be safe if Lena hadn’t been desperate for a connection. This is _her_ fault, not Webby’s or Scrooge’s. Lena should know better than to meddle. Magica’s mocking voice fills her thoughts.

_“Dumb, dumb little Lena.”_

She suppresses a scream. No matter where she goes, no matter how hard she fights it, she’s tethered to her. If not in body, then they’re linked in spirit. Magica has invaded her psyche. If only she were jeopardizing herself, not Webby, then…

Lena halts, thinking she heard Webby’s voice in her head. But, no, it’s Della calling her. Lena glowers. Maintaining her emotional distance and putting up barriers encourages people to leave her alone. It’s imperfect, but it usually works. Della isn’t putting up with it.

“Maybe when we find the crown, we can restore you to this realm,” Della suggests.

Lena pivots, giving the older duck a withering look. “Don’t quit your day job.”

Mrs. Beakley would’ve told her off for so much hostility. Della doesn’t. It’s galling. No matter what she says or does, Della sees through the facade. How is that even possible?

“Dewey filled me in on what happened to you.”

If anything, Lena’s gaze grows more heated. “Did he? How does he know?”

Her fists ball and she feels confrontational.

“I’ve known Magica de Spell for a long time--we’re all about the same age. Even when she was younger, she only cared about people for how much she could get out of them.”

Lena’s anger flares. The reminder that she’s not a person but a shadow and a terrible slave, not obedient to Magica’s will, is painful. It almost feels like being sucker-punched. But...she’s supposed to be on Webby’s side, which puts her tangentially on Della’s side. Della is trying to help. Lena never said she wanted help, yet Della offers it anyway. 

“She and my cousin Gladstone were an item for a while--she wanted his luck.”

Lena snorts. “Is there a point to this story?”

“She had a brother.”

“I know about Poe,” Lena says and is surprised by how dull her voice has become. It’s as if all the heat has dissipated, replaced by numbness. Magica’s mentioned him a few times, mostly in how Poe is superior to her. How Poe would’ve already retrieved the dime and not cared more about friendship than about his own skin. About how Poe was a proper relation and Lena isn’t even real. Lena’s vision blurs and she swallows past a lump in her throat.

After almost three months, it should stop hurting so much. Why does it still ache like the first time she heard it when she was trapped in Magica’s shadow?

“All I’m saying is that Magica used Poe too. She wouldn’t hesitate to use someone she considers family if they’re standing in her way.”

Lena doesn’t speak. Her throat is tight.

“Or call someone family when they’re not to establish a bond.”

“I know she manipulated me,” Lena snaps, injecting more venom into her voice than she feels because she wants Della to stop talking. She’s opening up old wounds that never closed, only festered in the shadow realm. She knew Aunt Magica would never have given her freedom; she knows that now and she knew it then. She’d deluded herself. She knows Aunt Magica manipulated her into doing what she wanted because that’s her modus operandi. None of this is new to her--why does Della insist on bringing it up? What does she hope to accomplish? 

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Lena snaps. “Let’s just get back to the camp already.”

Della sighs and then, to Lena’s profound relief, stops pushing. Lena knows what she’s trying to say, that this isn’t her fault, but that’s not how she sees it. All of this is her fault.

They discover Scrooge awake, as well as Huey and Dewey. Louie is probably awake too, but he’s feigning sleep. Lena rolls her eyes. Anything to avoid doing something. 

“I caught this one sneaking off,” Della announces. “And we have a slight problem, Uncle Scrooge.”

“What’s that, lass?” Scrooge asks and frowns at Lena. Lena cringes, but she gives as good as she gets and scowls back at the old man. This is the first time she’s come face to face with him and spoken with him since the Shadow War. It’s hard to quell the anger seeing him invokes, especially thinking about the Sunchaser incident.

“This isn’t Webby,” Della announces. She frowns too. “Maybe you’d better explain, Lena.”

Lena bits her tongue to avoid inciting an argument. Everyone is confused as it is. 

“Right, so...here’s what happened,” Lena says and gives them a brief overview of the situation. Huey looks dubious when she’s finished, but Dewey seems to believe her. Then again, he’s the easier triplet to fool. Louie stops pretending to be asleep and stares at her. Lena glares back. She’s on the defensive.

“If you’re really Lena,” Louie says, “then tell us something only Lena would know.”

She catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Webby’s interest is piqued too. Lena bristles, though not at Webby. Her ire is reserved for Louie.

“Like what?” she retorts, terse.

“Oh, I dunno. Some magic thing. Or how you’re even living in the bracelet at all.”

“There’s magic in the bracelet,” Lena says, relaxing and clenching her fists. “It was enough magic, that Webby and I shared, to keep me around. Aunt Magica destroyed my body, but I attached my spirit to Webby.”

Louie still looks skeptical. Lena wants to shake him until he believes her, but that would probably have the opposite effect.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not Webby,” Dewey says. “When’s my birthday?”

“How should I know?” Lena scoffs. 

“Webby knows everything about us,” Dewey says. 

“It’s actually kind of unnerving…” Huey adds.

“Why not keep quiet and stay alive? You’re not doing yourself any favors,” Louie presses.

Lena grits her teeth. This line of reasoning is close to Della’s and she hates it. They’re chipping away at her. 

“Because this is Webby’s body, Webby’s life, and I’m not entitled to it,” she snaps. “I’m not evil. This isn’t a trick.”

“I believe you,” Huey says to forestall an argument. He puts a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

“Or are you saying that because you’re trying to lure us into a trap--” Louie starts and Lena storms over to him and kicks his foot. Not hard, but hard enough to mean business. She figures Webby will understand.

“I’m not Aunt Magica’s pawn anymore. Are you going to help me or not?”

“We’ll help,” Scrooge intercedes. “But we should really try to get a little more sleep before tackling the crown.”

“That’s the thing,” Lena admits. “I can’t sleep. I’m sure if I could, I could switch places with Webby again. But I can’t.”

Scrooge looks thoughtful. “I may have just the thing for that.”

Given that Scrooge isn’t a magical adept and he doesn’t appear to be carrying anything with any magical resonance, Lena is understandably suspicious. At this point, however, she’ll try anything.

She nods. “Show me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Scrooge’s so-called magic elixir consists of nothing more than herbs and spices. Her inner Aunt Magica, the mocking voice in her head that persists regardless of whether she’s attached to the sorceress, derides Scrooge’s efforts. Lena doesn’t need her insipid comments to know it won’t work. This insomnia is supernatural; no mundane tricks will eradicate it. Nevertheless, she tries to appease him, because she feels like this is something Webby would encourage and she has nothing left to lose.

By the time they have discovered its utter failure, everyone is awake and peppering her with questions. Lena feels like she’s been backed against the wall and surrounded by enemies. The only thing keeping her from exploding is that she’s not connected to magic. If she had her old powers, or, rather, Magica’s, bad things would happen. She doesn’t even know the extent, just that the fire crackling near them would probably erupt and things would go downhill from there. Her heart pounds. 

“You’re overwhelming her!” Della announces, much to Lena’s profound relief. She never thought she’d find solidarity with her. “Calm down.”

It isn’t until everyone silences that she realizes she’s hyperventilating. Webby in her shadow looks alarmed and tries to pat her shoulders. It works as well as she’d expected, which is to say nothing happens. She appreciates the sentiment.

“I’m okay, I’m okay…” Lena repeats, not certain if it’s true but wishing everyone would stop staring at her. She’s having a hard enough time as it is. 

“The Lich King’s crown shouldnae be working without someone wearing it,” Scrooge says finally, once Lena has calmed down and quiet resumes. Della rubs her back in soothing circular motions and, taking herself by surprise, Lena spins around and hugs the older woman. Della, equally taken aback, hugs her back. 

Right. This family is big on hugs and physical affection, i.e. nothing at all like Lena’s “family”. 

“Its magic might be amplified because of a living shadow entering its domain,” Lena says, feeling a little shaky. She isn’t quite over nearly killing Webby earlier. “We need to find him and put things back the way they’re supposed to be.”

“But what happens to you?” Dewey asked.

Lena shrugged. “We’ll worry about that when we get to it.”

She’s unimportant, she knows she’s unimportant, but if she keeps harping about it, someone’s going to call her out on it. Plus, she doesn’t want Webby to know how deep her self-loathing goes. Her best friend would go on the warpath against Aunt Magica. Not that Lena would mind that but no one knows where that cursed sorceress wandered off to. She’s been conspicuously absent.

“You’ll go back to being Webby’s shadow and trapped in the shadow realm,” Huey said, shaking his head. 

“Better me in the shadow realm than Webby,” Lena retorts, waspish.

To this, no one knows quite what to say. Lena feels she’s made a good point but has no idea how to follow-through. Uneasy, she looks at Scrooge. He’s the bane of Magica’s existence--surely he has another idea? 

“We need to find the Lich King’s crown,” Scrooge says, frowning deeply. “We cannae afford to tarry much longer.”

“I can go look and come back…” Lena trails off at the glares she receives. Yeah, that idea went over like a lead balloon.

“We stick together,” Scrooge says fiercely. “If this has taught us nothing else, it’s that we cannae afford to be separated.”

Lena folds her arms across her chest. It’s late. Everyone else should attempt to sleep.

 _“They’re all against you, Lena. They’ve never wanted to help you,”_ a facsimile of Magica’s voice hisses in her head. Lena flinches and finds she cannot make eye contact with anyone, especially not her shadow.

“Lass, is there something else you’re not telling us?” Scrooge asks, forcing her to meet his gaze. Other than a ghost of Aunt Magica haunting her thoughts, no, not really. Besides, this she knows is only in her head. It’s her personal demons come to haunt her. She chances a glance behind her; Webby looks concerned; if a shadow can be said to emote.

She shakes her head.

Louie yawns and covers his beak. “Look, this is all fascinating, but I’m still tired and it’s still the middle of the night.”

“Ye cannae sleep at all, can ye, lass?” Scrooge asks Lena, not unkindly. Lena shakes her head again.

“I’ll be fine,” she scoffs, lying through her teeth yet again. “Don’t worry about me. You guys get some sleep and I’ll keep watch.”

Everyone exchanges uneasy glances and Lena swallows back irritation. They trust her, don’t they? For heaven’s sake, she _died_ to protect Webby. Doesn’t that mean anything to them? A tiny voice whispers in her mind, _Maybe Aunt Magica is right…_

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Scrooge begins uneasily.

“It’s that the last time it was just you and me, you ran off and nearly killed yourself,” Della adds. “We go together or not at all.”

“Great. Now that that’s settled--”

“It’s not settled!” Lena interjects. “I’ll take the crown off your hands, I’ll fix this myself, and everything can go back to the way it was.”

Too late, she realizes there’s a tightness in her chest and a burning in her eyes that presages tears. She doesn’t know why she’s upset. It’s a simple statement of fact. Everything must return to the way it was. There’s no choice. Besides, the shadow realm is where Lena belongs. She’s a shadow, after all. And anyway, she betrayed her master. She deserves her punishment. This is just brief parole before heading back.

She must be used to the lack of inhibitions from the shadow realm. That’s the only reason she’s showing vulnerability. As before, she shuts it down before it becomes a problem. Her throat is tight and she swallows back a lump.

“Lena…” Scrooge says gently. “I know you’re the shadow of my archnemesis, but you’re only a wee lass. Ye cannae run off half-cocked.”

“I’ll take watch,” Lena repeats stubbornly. She plops down, arms across her chest, resolute. Her gaze roves the area as if daring someone to argue.

“And I’ll take the watch with her,” Dewey offers. Lena groans. 

“It cannae just be a child taking watch,” Scrooge objects. 

Della yawns and then looks ashamed of herself. “I’m beat. I mean, I’ve stayed up later, but…”

“No problem, Mister McDee,” Launchpad says. “I’ll keep watch with them.”

“All right, then it’s settled. Launchpad, Dewey, and Lena will take the next watch before it’s Huey and my turn.”

“And I get no turns. Fine by me,” Louie says and Huey shoots him a nasty look. “What? I like my sleep.”

Lena shrugs, affecting disinterest. She might’ve been better off with Della keeping watch. The more she’s exposed to these other people, the less she likes it. Her friendship with Webby has been almost exclusively with Webby, not the rest of her “found” family. And she can’t act familiar with them because the things she knows about them derive from being in Webby’s shadow for nearly three months. That’s almost like a stalker.

Everyone settles down again and it isn’t until they’re asleep that Dewey starts peppering Lena with questions. Again. She wants to throttle him.

“So, what’s it like living in someone’s shadow? What’s the shadow realm like? So, does that mean Webby’s dead while she’s in her own shadow?” Dewey asks. 

“She’s not dead!” Lena growls, choosing not to answer the first two questions. She grabs Dewey by the collar and her eyes blaze. “Don’t _say_ that.”

“Okay, okay,” Dewey says. “Sheesh. Try to get a little information out.”

“I find meditation helps to fall asleep,” Launchpad says, which is a surprisingly astute observation from someone who once ate golf balls because they “looked like tiny eggs”. “Either that or watching Darkwing Duck. I wake up to Darkwing. I fall asleep to Darkwing. I’ve done other things to DW…”

“I don’t want to know, Launchpad,” Dewey says. His blue eyes latch onto hers and his gaze is alarmingly intense. She cringes back.

“If you’re a shadow, does that mean you’re dead or just sort of drifting around? And is that the same place that Duckworth is?” 

Lena has had enough. She shakes him, hard. It’s only sheer determination that keeps her from smacking him. She can almost hear Webby gasping and Aunt Magica cackling. The shock prompts her to drop the middle triplet and pull away, ashamed. 

Launchpad stares at her and she bristles.

“You shouldn’t take it out on Dewey because you’re frustrated,” Launchpad says.

“Yeah. What’d I ever do to you?” Dewey retorts. She wants to jump to her feet and rush off. Forget them; she’ll solve this herself. But, no, no one will let her do that. Her heart pounds and she feels adrenaline kicking in. 

“I’m sorry,” she snaps, sounding perhaps less apologetic than she ought to. Her shoulders slump. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge. I almost walked Webby off a cliff before. I’m not handling this well, okay? I’m not used to being a good guy.”

“But you _are_ a good guy,” Dewey says, staring at her with a little awe. “You sacrificed yourself to save Webby. That makes you, like, the ultimate good guy. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

Lena’s beak curls. “Where do you think I learned it from? Dear old Aunt Magica.”

“Why do you call her? She’s not even your aunt,” Dewey says.

Lena hugs her knees. “It’s complicated.”

“Look, we’re here for you. No matter what,” Dewey promises. “But you have to talk to us...and not shake me like I’m a rattle.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Part of being a good person is not bottling things up,” Dewey says. 

“Although it does lead to crashing…” Launchpad muses, smiling. Lena groans. 

“No crashes,” she says and shakes her head. 

“Wait, so...exactly how much did you see when you were in Webby’s shadow? If you don’t mind my asking,” Dewey says, being careful now not to upset her.

“I saw pretty much everything. I mean, I could wander if I wanted to, but…” Lena shrugs. This question doesn’t seem as invasive as the others did. She frowns.

“I saw Glomgold almost drown Webby.”

“What?!” Dewey exclaims, jumping to his feet. 

Oh. Oh, crap. Webby hasn’t told him yet. Lena cringes and hastily backtracks, explaining about Glomgold’s amnesia, his return from Duke Bologna to Flintheart Glomgold, and then subsequently throwing Webby overboard to attempt to steal fish from her. By the time she’s finished, Dewey is livid and she fears she’s made matters worse.

“I can’t believe he did. I know he’s a villain, but this is pretty low. Why didn’t she tell me about it?” he rages.

“Probably for this very reason,” Lena says, grimacing.

Webby facepalms in her shadow and then gestures in sign language at Lena. Unfortunately for her, Lena doesn’t know sign language. This must dawn on her a minute later because she stomps her foot and looks forlornly at Dewey.

“She’s sorry,” Lena translates. “She says she would’ve told you but she didn’t want to upset you. That she’s been trying to forget about it.”

“Shouldn’t he go to jail or something?” Dewey objects. Lena knows she might’ve been stretching the truth with what Webby wanted, but hey, she’s on her own here. Improvisation is what she knows best.

“Webby didn’t get hurt, Glomgold gets away scot-free, and no, there’s nothing that you guys can do except kick his butt later,” Lena says and she could almost hear Webby sigh in her shadow.

“That’s not fair!”

Lena’s beak twists into a humorless smile. Nothing in her life has been fair so far. Why should she expect that to change now?

She looks over at Launchpad, who has been oddly quiet. He’s fallen asleep. Somehow, she’s not surprised. 

“Yeah, he isn’t really great at staying up,” Dewey admits.

He looks at her. “Are you going to be okay with returning to the shadow realm?”

Lena’s smile lingers and she feels that tightness in her chest again.

“I have to be, don’t I?” she says. 

“Can’t you, you know, bring yourself back and Webby?” 

“You know, I’m getting tired,” Lena lies. She’s unnerved at how easily it comes to her. “I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sweet dreams, Lena. Sweet dreams to you too, Webby.”

Lena’s heart hurts. Maybe Dewey can have sweet dreams, but she hasn’t had any dreams since before Aunt Magica killed her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things: it's been almost two months since I last wrote this. (It looks like less, but my last LJ tagged post for this was dated Valentine's Day). 
> 
> I felt it was time and besides...season premiere tomorrow! 
> 
> The next chapter is almost certainly the climax and end of the story, FYI.

She doesn’t expect to fall asleep and is surprised when it sweeps her under. She finds herself in her old room beneath the theater. It looks like it’s been trashed. Her sheets lie in a heap on the floor, her diary has been ripped to shreds, and there’s an acrid stench in the air. Goosebumps form on her arms and she rubs them. Someone’s been here and her money is on Aunt Magica. Why she should appear here, she doesn’t know, nor how it’s possible to fall asleep in her current predicament. 

She knows she’s asleep, but that doesn’t erase the horror of someone in her private sanctum and destroying it. Her posters hang in tatters on the walls and her throat is tight. 

When she revolves in place, she expects to see her aunt leering at her. The tackle hug that ensues is so unexpected that she falls over. At least she falls onto the bed; she cradles Webby, as she knows it must be. No one else would be so effusive.

“Lena!” Webby cries and then turns her head, staring around her. “What happened to your room?”

“My money’s on Aunt Magica,” she replies. She sits up on the bed and Webby curls up beside her. The simple physical contact, ephemeral though it is, brings tears closer to the surface. Webby gazes up at her earnestly, which increases her guilt over nearly getting her killed earlier. She doesn’t deserve her. However, she knows better than to let this show. Instead, she looks up at the ceiling, the only part of her room still intact. Someone crumpled her spare clothes and then stomped on them with muddy feet. She tries to avert her gaze.

“How could she get in here?” 

Lena wants to laugh, but it’s not funny. It’s either laugh or cry. 

“Pink, she’s not actually here. But she’s always here. Do you understand what I mean?”

Webby shakes her head slowly. 

“I can’t escape her,” Lena says. “I’m always going to be haunted by her. So...this.”

Webby doesn’t reply for a minute. Instead, she snuggles up against her and Lena hugs her. She misses physical contact. Unfortunately, unlike the stench that pricks her nostrils, this feels like hugging air. Her heart aches. This is as close as she’s going to get to Webby and it’s not enough. 

“But you’re not part of her anymore,” Webby replies, soft, obstinate. “You’re part of me.”

Warmth fills Lena’s chest. Webby’s words are simple, but heartfelt. She smooths back Webby’s hair. “Yeah, I am.”

The malevolent force that had watched over them and led to this fiasco is absent, for which Lena is relieved. They have a short reprieve then, before things intensify again. She imagines Webby in her arms more intensely, because that’s the only recourse she has. She doesn’t want to let go.

Webby turns to face her and her gaze is sharp and direct. “How are you really?”

“I’ve been trapped in a nightmare realm for almost three months,” Lena says in a deadpan. “How do you think I am?”

“I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to get you out.”

“I know you are. Don’t sweat it, pink. I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, well…” She shrugs, trying to play it off. “It’s whatever. What’s important is that you’re safe.”

She’s lying and she hates that Webby doesn’t see through it. Then again, Webby is such an innocent soul, she doesn’t understand why Lena would be pushing her away even while lying beside her. She’s afraid to let her in too far. She doesn’t want to worry her unduly and besides, her problems aren’t Webby’s.

“I love you,” Webby says and Lena’s heart aches. 

“I love you too.”

She’s surprised she isn’t choking on the words, because Webby’s the first person she’s ever said them to. She’s never heard it from anyone else, either. The depth of her feelings take her breath away. This little duckling means so much to her.

“I will get you out of the shadow realm,” Webby swears. “I promise.”

“I believe you.”

“What was that strange force you sensed before?”

Lena stretches out, glad to inhabit her own body once more, even if it’s an astral projection. Everything’s the right size and shape. Plus, she couldn’t hold Webby in Webby’s body. 

“I think it’s the Crown of the Lich King,” Lena says and knows that’s right. It also explains why she couldn’t sense it awake. Webby’s not in tune with the magical world, at least not yet. Maybe it’s sensitivity that she can develop later, but for now, she doesn’t have Lena’s affinity for it.

“That doesn’t explain what knocked me out of my body,” Webby protests and Lena struggles to put into words exactly what happened when she isn’t certain herself. It takes her a few seconds to form a coherent reply.

“The Crown has a guardian or the remnants of one. It sensed me as soon as you came in and was attacking me the last time. It got you by accident.”

“What would it have done to you?” 

Webby sounds worried, which makes Lena’s next few words more difficult. She can’t lie to her about this--Webby would know. It’s too big. Nonetheless, she falters, knowing her best friend won’t want to hear it. Lena barely wants to think about it.

“Destroyed me is my guess,” Lena says, going for nonchalance. “I’m a rival’s dark magic.”

She shrugs and Webby bolts upright, alarmed. She seizes her by the shoulders and Lena has a flashback of when she’d shaken Dewey. The urgency in her gaze blows down Lena’s usual emotional barriers. There’s something about Webby that always leaves Lena undone. She’s too earnest, too good, and too compassionate. 

(This time, the little voice in her head doesn’t add that Lena’s not good enough for Webby. It’s hard to hold onto it with Webby this close and present for her to converse with).

“I won’t let it!” Webby vows, forgetting that she’s trapped in the shadow realm. Although...this gives Lena an idea. She hadn’t considered the possibility that she and Webby might be able to meet on the astral plane again. There might be a way to switch Webby back into her own body here and now. That would solve the conundrum, although Lena doesn’t relish returning to the dismal purgatory that is her eternal punishment for betraying Magica.

“I want you to know, pink, whatever happens, I’m here with you.”

Webby stares at her and her beak stiffens. “You’re not leaving me.”

“I never really did,” she points out.

Someone is shaking Webby awake and Lena panics, thinking only of ousting herself and returning Webby to her previous place. She pushes herself backward and out into the astral plane again, except a magical barrier shoves back. All too soon, she awakens...still in Webby’s body.

Lena curses. Loudly. And unfortunately for her, she does it while awake.

Everyone gawks at her and only Della wears a wry smile. Della knows what’s up. Lena’s thankful for her.

“Whatever you tried didn’t work, did it?” Della inquires sympathetically.

“No,” Lena answers, sitting upright. She wants to curse again, but bites her tongue. Instead, her gaze roves to the wall, where Webby looks miserable, if a shadow on the wall could be said to emote. Lena empathizes. This is wrong. Either Lena should possess her own body along with Webby or Lena should cease to exist. This in between business shouldn’t be possible.

“So, if sleeping didn’t work,” Huey says, nonplussed at Lena’s profanity, “then we have to procure the Crown.”

“Aye, that’s what I was afraid of,” Scrooge says. His eyes twinkle at Lena. “You doing all right, lass?”

“What’s that you old people say? I’m the ‘bee's knees’,” Lena retorts sarcastically. She’s heard that slang somewhere, though she can’t recollect how old it is. It’s probably not as old as Scrooge McDuck, who only gazes blankly at her. She stares, undeterred, back. 

“Let’s get breakfast going and find that crown,” Huey announces. “And, uh, maybe I’d better cook, Mom.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my cooking!” Della retorts. “My cooking is perfectly fine!”

She rounds on the others for support. “Right, Dewey?”

“Sure, ask the obvious mama’s boy his opinion,” Louie mutters. His hair is disheveled, though hardly the worst Lena has seen it. Louie and mornings don’t work well together. Louie would rather sleep in and her internal clock tells her that it’s a little after sunrise. This is far too early. Even Dewey is stifling a yawn. Suspiciously, he hasn’t answered his mother’s question.

“Dewey?” Della demands.

“You know, Mom, Huey’s not a bad cook,” Dewey offers weakly, attempting to find the middle ground. Louie snickers. 

Della scowls, but, whereas someone like Aunt Magica would have taken the insult to heart, it rolls off Della. “All right, fine. Huey can cook.”

The boys let out a jagged exhale of relief. Lena says nothing. She can’t recall what Webby ate last night or what happened prior to the body switch. It seems irrelevant now, like anecdotes in a boring story. The temptation to pull away from the group lingers and Della surprises her by guiding her toward a corner further from the guys. 

“I want you to know when this is all over and you have your body back, you can come talk to me any time,” Della tells Lena in an undertone. Lena blinks. The older duck is sincere too and her hairstyle is reminiscent of Webby’s. Plus, Lena knows Della nominally. She may hog the boys, but she has a good heart. It’s more that she’s impulsive than anything else. She’s not malicious. She doesn’t set out to exclude Webby or be loud and boisterous. It just happens. 

That little voice in Lena’s head, Aunt Magica’s remnants, cautions her not to trust Della. Then again, Aunt Magica would have her distrust everyone and hole herself up until she procured the dime again. Lena suppresses a shudder. She never wants to be Magica’s lackey again.

“Okay,” Lena replies.

“Don’t tell me that and then not come to me,” she warns. “I’ll know.”

Lena smiles, albeit weakly. “All right.”

“Now, let’s go,” Della says. She puts a warm hand on Lena’s shoulder and guides her back toward the others. Breakfast is ready and hunger pangs at her stomach. It’s been a while since she’s been hungry. She intends to relish it, even if the food might be Della’s leftovers. Cooking isn’t one of the woman’s fortes. That’s okay. Despite herself, Lena likes her just the same.

* * *

They set out a grueling pace; no one says it, but Lena knows they’re worried about Webby. She is too. Though her existence in the shadow realm was mostly peaceful, it was depressing and lonely to be so isolated. She isn’t looking forward to returning, but she also wouldn’t wish this on her best friend. Lena lacks Webby’s natural exuberance when she walks and keeps her eyes on the path to prevent nearly walking off a cliff again.

Scrooge has a map, which Lena wished she knew about yesterday. She could have pilfered it and stolen the Crown back herself, provided Della didn’t stop her. Now, however, she’s forced to keep pace with the others. Dewey peppers her with questions, Louie avoids all the pitfalls and yet somehow gets swept up in them anyway, and Huey talks to Scrooge about what natural wonders might be hidden in the cavern. Della and Launchpad bring up the rear and she bristles whenever Launchpad gets too close. Launchpad has been nothing but respectful, as far as Lena can tell, but he rubs Della the wrong way. Della clearly sees the younger man as a replacement. 

Lena knows how she feels. If someone came along threatening to steal Webby away, she’d go ballistic too. Thankfully, though it pains her too, Webby has no other friends beyond the boys. It’s cruel of her to be grateful for it, but Lena is terrified that Webby might move on and put her in the past. It’s no more than Lena deserves, but she’s always thought Webby saw Lena far better than Lena sees herself. Lena would never forsake Webby, but, at the same time, she wouldn’t blame Webby for forsaking her. 

After a while, seeing that Lena has no desire to talk, Dewey’s chatter fades away and he joins Launchpad and Della, two of his favorite people. Lena is alone again, listening to the others talk and enjoying the physical sensations she’ll lose as soon as this is rectified. She believes Webby will try her utmost to restore Lena to the land of the living. She knows it’s possible, but…

Lena doesn’t know how to finish that. She’s a ball of contradictions. Technically, she shouldn’t exist anymore. She was Magica’s shadow, not Webby’s. When Magica destroyed her, the bracelet shouldn’t have stored her spirit. Yet it has. The power of friendship has sustained Lena in this weird half-life. 

Lena keeps an eye on her shadow too from time to time. Webby is her silent cheerleader, waving her arms and pumping her fists, and Lena snorts. She’s such a nerd. But she’s Lena’s nerd.

All too soon, this adventure will end and things will return to the status quo. Lena’s throat is tight. Maybe they’ll meet again in dreams, once this is all over. It’d be nice to hang out with her again, even if just for one night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic ends on a depressing note. I’m sorry. This was basically how I’d planned it to remain canon, though. 
> 
> It was hard to write, nonetheless. Poor, poor Lena. She deserves the world. 

The Crown of the Lich King looks innocuous; like it couldn’t possibly be the reason behind the body-switching or the ominous feeling in Lena’s stomach. It took them a good three hours to reach it and it levitates on an altar. 

“So...do we touch it or what?” Louie asks.

“We should approach it carefully,” Huey says. 

“So someone else can set off the trap,” Louie says without missing a beat. “Got it. Wanna do the honors, Dewey?”

“I’ll do it,” Lena grumbles. It may be the last thing she says before she’s sucked back into the shadow realm. She steps forward without prompting and brushes her fingers against it. Della tries to yank her back, but it’s too late. It feels like her fingers are stuck to the crown. Electricity rushes through her and Lena flies backward, crashing against the wall behind her. Her vision turns black, but she doesn’t pass out. Or, if she does, she’s whisked away immediately to another realm.

A man wearing black robes stares down at her. He looms, easily ten feet tall, and Lena’s heart is in her throat. Their surroundings fade to nothing and it’s just her, Webby, and this spirit. She swallows back a scream and takes Webby’s hand. Distantly, she’s aware that Webby’s other hand is hooked onto the crown. 

“What do you want?” Webby demands. Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t feel the Lich King’s evil resonating through her. She wouldn’t, though, would she? She’s not evil. Lena is. Or, at least, she’s not good, precisely. Her gut wrenches. It feels like the Lich King has read her innermost thoughts and found her wanting.

“You do not belong on this plane,” the Lich King snaps.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Lena says with far more confidence than she feels. 

“I have a need for more magic. Your magic is not tainted enough, not yet, but it is, however, acceptable for my purposes,” the Lich King says and Lena freezes. 

“Not...yet?” Lena echoes, feeling faint.

“You’re getting Lena’s magic over my dead body,” Webby snaps. If Lena had a tenth of Webby’s confidence, she’d be over this in no time. Nonetheless, she positions herself in front of her best friend. If anyone is going to suffer, it’ll be her. It’s always she who suffers; she is Magica de Spell’s shadow creature. She deserves to suffer.

“Yet I sense the corruption within you, struggling to take root,” the Lich King says, studying Lena carefully beneath the hood. His shadowed features remain hidden, but Lena can feel a keen gaze raking her from head to toe. It feels like she’s being mentally flayed and it petrifies her. She swallows the fear back with an effort. It’s not that she’s projecting calm so much as she doesn’t want to freak Webby out. For Webby, she would do anything.

“Lena’s not corrupt,” Webby snaps. “Lena’s a good person. She’s extra good because she got out from under Magica de Spell’s power and became her own person. She saved my life. You don’t have any right to her.”

The Lich King ignores Webby’s pronouncement in favor of pacing around Lena. He levitates above the ground as he does so and then caresses Lena’s cheek. It feels like death, ice-cold and inhospitable. Lena whimpers. It’s bad enough that she’s dead. She doesn’t need the reminder, thanks.

“Leave her alone!” Webby snaps and jumps on the Lich King, but he’s no longer there. He’s shifted away, gone in the blink of an eye. 

“I’ll make you a deal, little shadow creature,” the Lich King says, sounding amused. “I won’t sever the connection between you and your new master--”

“I’m not her--” Webby starts, but the Lich King runs roughshod over her.

“If you’ll let me take her memories of this event,” the Lich King continues. “Hers and everyone else’s.”

“Why do you want their memories?” Lena asks, suspicious and worried. 

“Because there’s power in hope and despair,” the Lich King says and she can hear the grin in his voice. “And if everyone forgets you’re trapped in the shadow realm or at least how you gained access to the land of the living, I will have enough power to manifest in the real world.”

“We reject your offer,” Webby snaps. “And you’re not getting Lena, either.”

“This offer isn’t for you,” the Lich King says and brushes Webby aside as if she were an annoying gnat. “Think on it, Lena de Spell. Which would you rather? Your life or your sense of belonging? If you fail to respond, I will take both as my due.”

Lena doesn’t have to think about it for long. She’s living a half-life, a cursed life, already. She doesn’t want to lose this connection that’s so precious.

“Would you hurt Webby and the others too, if I refuse?” Lena asks.

“Lena, no!” Webby hisses.

The Lich King leers at Lena. “I will kill her first after I have harvested enough magic. You will have availed her nothing, shadow. Time is ticking away. Make up your mind.”

It’s nothing that requires deep thought on her part. As before, Lena knows what she must do. She steps forward to shake the Lich King’s hand and before she gets there, Webby interposes herself.

“You can’t do this,” she says. 

“It’s the only way things will return to normal, pink,” Lena says and shrugs helplessly. “I mean, it was fun while it lasted, but it was never going to stay that way.”

Webby charges the Lich King, which Lena thinks is both incredibly brave and stupendously misguided. The Lich King merely moves aside, as if Webby were an insect, and seizes Lena’s wrist. A frisson of energy rushes through her and then freezes her. She feels herself falling and this time, the darkness is total. Webby cries out and it’s the last thing she hears before vanishing from both the astral plane and the shadow realm temporarily.

* * *

When Lena regains herself, it’s to discover she’s in the Sunchaser. Webby is talking excitedly to Dewey; no one remembers what happened, only that it must’ve been something big. It seems the Lich King has partially filled in their memories, at least. Lena drifts away, morose. She’s the only one who remembers the truth. It feels like a knife in her guts.

She almost wishes the Lich King had ended her miserable half-life. She doesn’t want to leave Webby, but she’s already proved that she can’t prevent anything bad from happening to her. And she can’t talk to anyone and now, no one even remembers talking to her. She did this for Webby, to save her best friend again. 

Lena swallows hard and tears fill her eyes. She huddles into a corner of the Sunchaser and weeps, hugging her knees. No one hears her. No one is even aware that she’s there. 

When she’s finished crying, she glances at the Crown, which Scrooge holds up a few feet away. He places it inside a glass container and Lena sees that he hasn’t touched it with his bare hands. Instead, he’s wearing gloves. 

“Ack, I should’ve remembered that the bloody thing was cursed,” Scrooge huffs. “At least no one touched it.”

Lena moans, burying her face in her hands again. She feels so alone. 

Webby comes over with Dewey, her new best friend, and Lena swallows hard. She doesn’t have it in her to hate Dewey, but nor does she have anything within her to be happy for Webby’s newfound closeness to the blue triplet. It feels like she’ll never be happy again.

“Good thing I remembered my gloves at the right moment,” Scrooge boasts. “I couldnae take the idea of one of you getting hurt.”

Lena drifts away again, this time letting herself vanish into the shadow realm and away from the others. She doesn’t want to be near them. She has almost faded into purgatory, the closest she gets to non-existence, when Webby touches her friendship bracelet.

“Lena…” Webby whispers.

“I’m here, pink,” Lena says, knowing she can’t hear her but powerless to stop herself. “I’m always here.”

“I’ll bring you back, I swear it,” Webby says. Lena smiles, but it’s half-hearted. 

“Sure you will, pink. Sure you will.”

She wants to believe her and a tiny bit of her does. It’s not much, only a small flame, but Lena blows on it. It’s all she has right now, the faint hope of a better tomorrow. She curls into a ball and vanishes into the shadow realm for a while. Say one thing about the shadow realm--it’s almost a balm to be able to stop existing for a while. 

* * *

Webby has fragments of memories that don’t add up. She twists the friendship bracelet around her wrist and it feels cool to the touch. She doesn’t like that. It makes her worry that wherever Lena is, it’s cold and unpleasant. 

She  _ will  _ bring her back from its depths, one way or another. She has a gut feeling Lena has already sacrificed enough for her and that there’s something that she can’t remember that Lena has done. She swears she’ll make it up to her when she brings her back. 

And Webby always keeps her promises.

  
  



End file.
